Sedated
by Childish Sadism
Summary: You are just so perfect, but a little bit insane. Nobody can see how lovely you are but me. I'm the only one that can help you, but you don't want my help. If only you knew how much I understand.


I was feeling just a bit mean.

Warnings: violence, abuse, and some other crap.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland, crazy little Arthur. Nobody wanted him, nobody knew how to deal with him. His family couldn't take care of him, he was too embarrassing. Crazy little thing, ruining their reputation. Demented little thing, talking to himself and making up stories that were never real. Nobody believed him, nobody could. He was just another mistake, one that needed to be erased.

Arthur was left alone, he was pushed to the side and locked up, in a hospital where the walls wouldn't speak to him and no one would listen to him. Why, why would they leave him all alone. How could they leave him all alone? The family couldn't see. They were not capable of realizing how special little Arthur was. It was a state of mind that nobody could reach. He could see things that no one could. He could speak to things that no one saw. He could become anyone he wanted. So why, did his family abandon him.

Even though he was long gone. No one could see what I could. I know for sure Arthur is special, he will always be special. He is my special patient and I'm going to make sure the voices get louder. It is the least I can do as his doctor.

Arthur was brought to Scotland when he was fifteen, the reason for the visit was unknown to him. Who would have guess that his family was going to leave him behind? No one. Arthur was abandoned in a mental hospital in the middle of nowhere. The nearest city was an hour away and no one ever came to visit. It was a black hole, once someone was left there, they were forgotten.

The Brit was dangerous, at least that's what his family said. They warned the staff and told them not to trust him.

"He gets violent, out of nowhere he starts screaming and fighting. He broke my brother's arm last week... " That's what his brother told the nurse. "He is always talking to himself and when we ask him who he is talking to, he can never tell. He acts strange every day, sometimes we can't even tell he's the same person. My mother said that he was possessed by a demon, but the priest said that Arthur was sick. We keep trying to hide him from everyone, but we can't control him anymore. My mom is tired, she thinks this is for the best."

Was it truly for the best? Arthur could remember his brother's words clearly. It was as if it had just been yesterday when he was dropped in this hospital, but no, it had been over a year. One long, and painful year.

Who could have guessed...that the doctors were just as crazy as the patients.

* * *

Alfred F. Jones, that was the name of man that took care of Arthur. The only one that would visit him, the only one that would speak to him...the only one Arthur didn't want to see.

"You are not crazy Arthur, you truly aren't." Alfred would stay to him during their sessions, the sessions that took place in Arthur's little gray room. The walls were gray and padded, with no real bed for him to sleep on, he was only given a blanket and a pillow.

"I'm sure we can make you healthy in no time..." Alfred smiled at him. He was sitting next to Arthur, his hand resting on his head as he stroke the soft hair. "I have dealt with many people before, but none like you. You are different you see, you remind me of someone. I usually have patients that shouldn't even be here, but their families just don't want to deal with their bullshit anymore. Depressed people, bipolar people, suicide attempts, and more boring cases. No one is truly insane you see, they are just a little bit sick, almost as if they have a cold. With a little bit of medicine, and a little bit of patience, they become better in no time and they are allowed to leave. But you..."

Arthur flinched as the hand on top of his hair tightened around his hair. He kept staring at the floor, watching as the gray colors danced in front of him. That was until his head was jerked to the side and he met the bright blue eyes that belonged to his doctor.

"You really can't be cured, can you? I want to make you healthy, I really do. But, I know better. I know what's really going on in that little head of yours..." The doctor snickered, his head tilting to the side as his hand roughly jerked Arthur's hair over and over, making the sandy blond move his head like a rag doll. "You don't see things like we do, not one bit. But I don't think that's bad at all, if I was your brother I would had been so excited to have a little brother like you. I would have played with you all day. Every day. I would have taken care of my little brother."

Arthur felt his body going stiff, the hand on his hair was moving lower and lower, stroking his chest and soon enough rubbing over his crotch. He was breathing heavily, his eyes widening in fear as he couldn't stop it. His hands were made of stone, his legs were made of stone. He couldn't move. Medusa had caught him. It was impossible to move. He needed to find a way, a quick one. Anything. Maybe a sword, maybe the shield that could reflect the monster's powers. But where could he find such a thing, where? Where? Where? WHERE?

Alfred stared at his idle patient. Arthur was gone. He was no longer with him, the green eyes were idle, foggy and staring at something that Alfred couldn't see. Even though he was touching Arthur, even though he was right next to him. Arthur could no longer see him, he probably couldn't even remember what was happening a second ago. The battle that he should be fighting with Alfred, he was fighting it in his head. Making him his own reasoning of what was going on.

It was funny, almost sad. How he could easily undress him now. How he could easily run his hands over the pale, damaged skin. He was so rough with him, with little Arthur. He had left bruises last time, and they were still here. He could see the bruises on Arthur's hips and sides, deep and purple.

Maybe this time he could be nicer. But why should he be?

Crazy little Arthur.

Lost little Arthur

He couldn't see or feel, what Alfred was doing.

It was easy to fuck the body in front of him. Alfred sometimes felt like if he was fucking a corpse or a doll. The sandy blond would hardly move and he was easy to control. Alfred could have him bouncing on his cock in no time. He was able to penetrate the body in front of him so easily. He could claim him so easily and add more pretty little marks to his body. Maybe this time on Arthur's neck. He was his little patient after all, his little demented whore.

* * *

"Who are you talking to, Arthur?" Alfred was a good doctor. He paid attention to his patient like no other! Even if he could be doing something else instead, something very naughty. He would speak to Arthur, he couldn't let him be in his own little world all by himself.

"I'm not talking to anyone." Arthur would respond every time. He looked confused and lost when asked who he could be speaking with. But then again maybe he didn't realize who was speaking. Maybe it was another side of him. Another he couldn't see. For Arthur himself, was very smart. He was a good boy. He loved to read and to be outside. He was polite and nice and if Alfred said something gentle, he would smile at him in return. The Arthur that was sane, the one that would hardly show his face...what a nasty, ugly thing he was.

"But you were, just now you were talking to someone and it wasn't me. You were talking about your siblings and you were defending them." Alfred smiled, the hand holding his pen now being used for him to lean his chin on.

"I-I was truly not speaking to anyone..." The Brit said once again, this time a worrisome look on his face. "Mom won't allow me to do that. So I don't do it. I'm good, I don't want to make her upset. She is not very patient so I make sure not to speak to anyone but them. I wasn't speaking to anyone else."

"But you were, I heard you. You were speaking to someone Arthur, I saw you." Alfred's response was cold, any hint of amusement gone.

"No! I was not talking to anyone else! I was not! P-please, you can't tell her anything. If she finds out. She would ground me again, she is so mean...so mean. She locks me up every time, I don't like it." Arthur was crying, he looked desperate and lost.

"Maybe I'll tell, maybe I won't. You'll have to answer me one question, where are you right now?" Alfred stood up then, slowly walking towards the shaking teen.

"W-what?" Arthur was confused, it was easy to tell by the look he was giving to the doctor. "I'm in my room. In my house but, what are you doing here?" Why was a doctor in his house? Who was this doctor?

Alfred chuckled, and leaned towards the teen. He smiled at him, his blue eyes staring at the green orbs in front of him. "That's because, you are not in your house Arthur. Someone decided to tell on you and your mom, decided to lock you up for good."

Alfred couldn't help himself but to smile wider and with glee as Arthur's eyes widened. He watched as the illusion in his mind slowly crumbled in place. He could tell that the teen couldn't see his room anymore. But was back in the gray little room. He looked lost and confused. Scared and paralyzed. How many times had Alfred seen this? Many, but he couldn't get enough. He just couldn't. He loved to see that look on Arthur's face. The look when reality would suddenly slam back in his brain and everything he thought was happening, everything he thought was real. Was nothing but a lie. It was so...intoxicating, the highest drug Alfred could afford. The biggest ecstasy in his life.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Arthur shook his head and held it tight. He was curling up on the floor, saying the same word over and over. He couldn't be here, he was home. He had made it home, his mom decided to take him back. He was not left alone. So why, why was he here?

Arthur jerked away when a hand reached for his arm. He quickly crawled away and moved to the other side of the room. He looked lost and had a wild look on his eyes. Confusion, mixed with anger was all that he could see. He shouldn't be here.

"You want to make it hard Arthur? don't do that, I brought a chair in here so I could sit with you." Alfred sighed, and moved towards the teen. He reached for him again but this time Arthur didn't run away, no, instead he quickly moved and bit Alfred's hand. He bit the skin in between Alfred's thumb and index finger and his teeth dug into the flesh, making blood splash against his mouth and drip down onto the floor.

Arthur didn't see it coming, how could he. All he could see was red, but a hand quickly smacked the side of his head, sending him flying back against the wall. He saw stars across his eyes and reached to touch them but instead of touching the stars his arms was roughly grabbed and twisted. He screamed. It hurt. It hurt a lot. He was dragged across the room like that. The teen couldn't even breathe and once he was released, his face was slammed down against a hard surface. He felt it breaking underneath him. Maybe his head was so full of crap that it was able to break things easily. Was that what it was? It could be.

The Brit heard himself whimper as his head was lifted by his hair. He could feel blood running down his nose and mouth, maybe even the side of his head as well. All he knew was that he was being pulled again. He was dragged across the floor by his hair and his legs just wouldn't move, they wouldn't help.

'You should move.' Arthur heard himself asking his legs. But the pair of limbs simply decided not to do it. He begged and begged but it wasn't working. Maybe he hit his head too hard? Maybe he did. The teen looked around but all he could see was red, a blurry red color and a broken chair. He heard someone talking and yelling, could it be one of his friends? Arthur had many friends, but they often left. Some of them would stay and some of them would leave. Some of them were mean while others were kind. But no, this wasn't one of his friends. He was too strong, far too strong.

Arthur heard himself making noises as he was pulled over Alfred's lap. He was stripped naked and forced to sit on his lap with his head resting on Alfred's chest. The hand that was bleeding was gently stroking his hair and the other one was rubbing his back, making small circles and massaging the skin.

"You react just like that person..." Alfred said, and although Arthur could hear his voice, it sounded very far away. "My mom used to be the same way. I remember it pretty well. When I was little she would do the same things you do. It was amazing. My dad didn't love her anymore but couldn't bring himself to leave her alone, so he kept her around. I don't understand how he couldn't love her. Mom was just special, she was different. I believed everything she said, because her words were so true. She spoke to me in different voices and sometimes she wasn't the same. It was like if I had many moms, and she was smart, just like you. She could play the piano, the violin, write beautiful stories, cook, sew, and even did stuff only guys could do. I thought she was amazing. But I don't know why no one else wanted her around. It was silly to me, how someone so great, could be pushed aside so easily. Mom was left in a hospital like this, just like you and I never saw her again. She committed suicide a year after, no one understood her you see, no one could. Only I could."

"I wanted to meet more people like mom. That's why I became a psychiatrist, I wanted to see more people like her, and be around people like her. I was hired in here right away and then...then I understood how many fakes you could find. None of them were like her, and none of them could ever hope to be like her. But then, just as I was falling into desperation, just as I was about to burn this place down with everyone in it...you came along. Little Arthur, little crazy Arthur."

Alfred leaned his face against Arthur's shoulder. "You are the first one to be like her, you are the first one to truly be like her. You even do what she used to do. When she was angry she would hit me non-stop. She would become so violent, but I wasn't angry, I couldn't be. It was my mom and I was the only one that understood. That all she needed, was someone like her." The doctor snickered and kissed the pale skin in front of him, his hand was no longer bleeding and was now holding on Arthur's hip.

"That's why I love you little Arthur. That's why I can't let anyone else help you..." Alfred nodded slowly and moved his head to kiss Arthur's cheek. He wiped the blood off his nose and mouth and then kissed those bloody lips. "You are my little patient, just mine. I own you."

Alfred snickered, he could feel the teen shaking in his arms. He could feel him trembling and struggling but he couldn't escape. No, he couldn't. Alfred kissed those lips again and then reached down to unzip his pants. He lowered his underwear and then spat on his hands, rubbing the saliva on Arthur's ass right away. He saw those green eyes widening and he smiled. Arthur knew what was coming, he could recognize what was about to happen and he was so happy. So happy.

The doctor pushed his member against the tight opening, spreading the little hole with his cock until it was buried deep inside the teen. He heard Arthur whimpering and crying, but he kissed those whimpering lips and then licked the tears away. Everything was going to be fine, he just couldn't help himself. Arthur was so cute, so perfect. He just needed to be inside of him. To be with him and to love him. The crazy little patient, his little patient, his little piece of heaven. He fucked that body until Arthur was faint and weakly leaning against him. Once more, he could claim what was his and he would every time he could.

This was perfection.

* * *

Arthur wasn't very stable when he didn't take his medication. Yet, Alfred kept taking it from him. He never gave him the full dose and sometimes he wouldn't even give it to him. It wasn't like Arthur cared, until the voices became too loud. The high pitching noises were too much, it was an echo that was constantly in his mind. No matter where he sat, no matter where he went. The noises were there. And every time he moved everything became louder. He couldn't even recognize half of the voices, but he could understand what they were saying, some of it was true and some of it wasn't. Some stuff wasn't even relevant to what was happening! Yet, Arthur couldn't stop listening to them. All control was lost when they started to speak at the same time. They would argue all the time but all of them did the same thing. They would speak ill of Arthur. they were so rude and mean, so vicious and horrible. And all Arthur could do was listen to them, even if he covered his ears, even if he hid his face with his blankets. The voices wouldn't stop.

It was times like this that he would lose full control. Who he was was impossible to tell. The gray room became a black hole, with a door that was locked but had no door knob. Every time he ran towards it, the voices laughed harder at him. Or maybe, he was the one that was laughing?

It was also times like this that Alfred also feared the most, yet they were needed so Arthur wouldn't lose who he was. His mom also had times like this in the past, and just like his mom Arthur would speak a lot, in this case, a lot of truths.

"You are just as insane as I am, you disgusting bastard. Did you fuck your mommy as well? Or did you masturbate thinking about how perfect she was? I bet you did, I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to find her corpse to fuck." Arthur was so different, he was laughing and looked at him with cold eyes. He was smiling and taunting him.

"An insane fuck looking for other insane people. What a piece of work you are. Maybe you should have died with your mom. Wouldn't that had been best? That way I wouldn't be stuck here with you. That way I wouldn't have to deal with a psychotic asshole that is probably crazier than I am!"

Alfred wasn't sure what truly happened when Arthur was like this. All he knew was that he was fighting him. He was screaming at him, pushing him and looking at him with the same mocking look his mother used to give his father. Did this mean, he was now in his father's spot? Did that meant Arthur loved him? The idea was almost enough to forget about the crude words. But he couldn't, Arthur wouldn't shut up, he just wouldn't! It was Alfred's job to make it happen.

Alfred felt a little bad when he did this to Arthur, when it was his fault for not giving him his medicine. It was the only time he ever felt guilty for doing something to Arthur, everything was done for his own good after all.

Sedating Arthur was not an easy task, not when he was constantly struggling and fighting him. It was the only time that Arthur's punches truly hurt. He kept laughing at him, screaming at him.

"You know what's funny? That just like that, you are fucking me and abusing me and using me. Maybe in the hospital your mother went to a doctor just like you was doing the same thing. Raping her, using her, making her suck his cock."

That was it. Alfred tackled Arthur, he sat on top of him and his hands reached down to wrap around his neck. He squeezed hard, choking the sandy blond beneath him. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'M TRYING TO BE NICE! I'm trying to help you, so just shut up!" He glared and one of his hands let go of Arthur's throat just to punch him on the mouth. Blood quickly crawled out and the teen started to drown in his own blood. He couldn't swallow it because of the hand on his neck, and he couldn't spit it out since he was panicking and trying to breath. Only when his eyes started to roll to the back of his head did Alfred let go of his neck. Arthur quickly turned his head away and spat out the blood before taking a deep breathe.

The teen was panting and breathing heavily through his mouth, gulping down as much air as he could before a hand squeezed his neck again. He whimpered this time, his eyes widening. Alfred was pulling down his pants and without preparation, without anything he pushed inside of him. It was painful for the two of them, but Alfred was angry. He pushed and thrust inside the body underneath him before once again choking the teen. He was squeezing tightly on his neck, enough to have more blood and saliva crawl out from Arthur's mouth. He was violently moving his hips, and could feel the body underneath him panicking and twitching. Alfred was only allowing him to breathe as much as it was necessary but then he would choke him again, and again. It was almost acting as a reset for Arthur as well.

Arthur was whimpering and trembling, twisting his body in pain and trying to get away but he couldn't. It was impossible to get rid of the tight grip on his neck. he couldn't even tell what was happening or how this came to be, all he knew was that his body was in pain, in a lot of pain.

"I try to be patient with you Arthur, I truly do. I think I am and I think I treat you well. But when you speak like that, you truly make me angry. It is the only side of you that I don't like...!" Alfred was yelling and his movements were becoming more violent, he was thrusting inside of Arthur and abusing the opening as much as he could. "You don't realize how nice I am. I could make things easier for me. Cut your arms and legs and just have you crawling around, like nothing but a pet, but I'm nice because I love you. You are perfect for me. So don't make me think like that. Do you understand?" Alfred squeezed the throat in front of him and he could see that Arthur was about to pass out but he stopped then. He let him breathe and instead focused on fucking the tight hole wrapping around his cock.

"Just be nicer Arthur, that is all that I ask. Be nicer and realize that I do this for you. Just for you. We are in this together, I love you." Alfred kissed the bloody lips, not caring about the coppery taste at all. It was Arthur, as long as it was Arthur it didn't matter, his Arthur, his special little Arthur.

* * *

Arthur was getting worst every week. His delusions would go too far and it came to a point in which he kept his eyes closed and his hands on his ears. He couldn't bring himself to see the things that only he could see, not anymore. The voices were not gentle, not any at all. It was impossible for him to even speak to Alfred. He was constantly sedated, yet he was not given the medicine that he needed...not that it matter anymore, even with a high dose, there was no way he could come back. The black hole was swallowing him and the gray room became dark.

A doll probably had more life on it than Arthur, after he was sedated his body was unable to move and his blank eyes couldn't see anything. He wouldn't speak either, even when he tried to say something his voice was nowhere to be found. The only good side of this was that he wasn't able to hear the voices, yet he was all alone. Alone in this little dark hole, consumed by his own insanity. Not even Alfred was present anymore. He couldn't feel him or hear him, even if the doctor was right next to him.

That was...until someone else was born inside Arthur. Arthur, little insane Arthur was pushed and shoved to the back of his brain. Someone else took his place. A good little pet, a cute little thing. He could hear it speaking to Alfred and then being sedated was no longer needed, yet Arthur himself couldn't come back. No, but he could see what was happening, he could hear what they talked about and he could feel what they did. It wasn't what he wanted.

"I love you."

He didn't, Arthur did not love Alfred. He didn't, he didn't, he didn't! It wasn't him, and Alfred knew this yet, he looked happy. He was enjoying this. Why was his doctor so crazy, why couldn't he have a good doctor. One that wouldn't abuse him, one that would help him, and one that wasn't seeking his love and appreciation, because now that he had it. Now he truly did as he wished.

Arthur was a little bit more sane now that he was hiding in his own mind. He could see everything in only two colors, black and white. And it was so much easier than before. Nothing was cut into pieces, no one was speaking to him and no one was making him see things that where not there. Yet, he wasn't the one controlling his body, he wasn't the one moving, he wasn't the one speaking.

He wanted to be himself again. Could it be that after this he was able to be a little bit sane? Maybe enough to be able to get out. Maybe enough for his mom to pick him up. He wanted to go home, he wanted to see his brothers, his cat and his mother. All of them, he wanted to be with them.

But the other Arthur was constantly the one in control. He was the one that kept Alfred happy and the one that was brutally abused now, yet he would just smile at him and say the same words, over and over again.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

It was all a lie. Everything was nothing but a lie. How many more lies would he spit out.

That's why, that's why Arthur killed him. He killed the other him, the one that was a liar. He reached for him and dug his fingers on his throat until it was bleeding. He scratched at him and made sure to choke him until he wasn't able to move anymore. He ripped on the skin of his throat, until blood was pouring it. Just with his hands, that was all he needed. He watched as the other Arthur fell over, he watched him squirm in pain and start crying, but he couldn't pity him. Why would he. He was a liar, he took over. He left him alone but thanks to him he also became a little bit saner, right? It was that perfect.

Arthur laughed and smiled, yet he could feel his eyes tearing up and his throat was hurting and was dry. He truly couldn't speak and his body was trembling. He collapsed next to the fake, and stared at him. The lifeless green eyes, and the bloody fingers that were now touching the floor. He reached for him, and he touched the pale face. They looked the same, yet they were so different. Why did he had to be like that, why couldn't he be like him? He didn't have to die.

No, he didn't have to die.

Alfred was the one that found them, yet he didn't pick up the copy in front of him. The one that loved him, the one that appreciated him. He picked him up, Arthur, the angry one, the crazy one. He was the one that was picked up, he was wanted and he could see Alfred crying. He glanced back again, and stared at the dead copy but little by little, it disappeared.

Oh, that was right. He was the copy. Maybe that's why, his throat was hurting so much.

The doctor was holding onto his neck, putting pressure on the large wound that was bleeding but it was too late. Even if he called for help Arthur was going to die. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay. Arthur was alright with this, it was time for him to go. After all, he wanted to see his family. He was finally going to be able to get out, and he could see the dark hole slowly turning brighter and brighter. A light was shinning through all the darkness and Arthur was happy. He was so happy he could feel himself crying, before everything ceased to exist.

The crazy, little patient stopped moving. He was dead in Alfred's arms.

The doctor stared at the corpse his arms, He held him tight as blood kept crawling out. He stroked Arthur's cheek and kissed his forehead. He couldn't leave him, Arthur couldn't leave him. Not like this, not in the same way that his mother had. He worked so hard. He got him to love him. Arthur loved him, so why, why was he gone? He didn't want this, no, he needed to come back.

Alfred shook the body in his arm, but Arthur's head just moved from one side to the other and his arms gently swung back and forth. The skin was a ghostly place color and the beautiful green eyes wouldn't open.

But they did. The green eyes stared at Alfred and the lips smiled at him. The crazy little patient leaned in to kiss him. He gave him such a cute smile that Alfred couldn't help himself but to smile back. He felt those hands wrapping around his shoulders and hugging him close, but Alfred knew what this was. It was a good bye, Arthur was going to be gone again, yes, just like before. He held tightly onto the smaller body, he kept him close to himself.

Until a stinging pain spread across his neck. Alfred's eyes snapped open and he stared at the injection that was now on his neck. Arthur was holding it and he was still smiling at him. It was the sedatives that Alfred always carried with him, on the inside pocket of his lab coat. The doctor tried to move, he tried to push the patient away but it was too late. The long needle was brought down on his neck again and again. Ripping the flesh on his throat.

Was this how Arthur had felt when he decided to do this to himself? No, it had probably been more painful. It was probably a thousand times more painful. Alfred hugged the other closer and closer to himself, as the needle kept piercing through his throat. He felt blood in his mouth but the doctor just let it happen.

This way, he could be with his cute, crazy, little Arthur.

The medical staff found the two corpses the next morning. Nobody could explain how this happened. The two had been locked up. Arthur was a lost case, he was in isolation and was only brought his food and medication. Alfred was a criminal case, he was a psychopath that had murdered countless people. What was more shocking to them, was that Alfred had all the keys for the hospital, not only that but he also had a sample of all the medications the hospital owned, all within his coat. Even the sedatives. He was truly one scary man. Yet, the double suicide just seemed so weird. Why now? Why did Alfred rip his throat open? Why did Alfred stab his throat? Why would the two do such a thing? The answers were never going to be found.

The doctor had indeed been just as crazy as the patient and because nobody cared for them, in this little black hole, nobody noticed what was happening. Arthur was left alone by his family, and the doctors never cared to treat him, all but one, Alfred. The demented doctor that would sneak out of his room to treat him. The one that was making him sicker and the one that shouldn't have been allowed to see him.

Two little, crazy minds died that day. One died by killing his worst enemy, himself. And the other one died by the hand of the person he loved, or at least, that's what Alfred saw.

What a crazy pair.

* * *

Reviews amuse me.


End file.
